Daybreak of Your Smile
by Queen of Koorime
Summary: That afternoon, Sango went for a walk in a meadow she knew of that was not far away. I wondered if she had the same things on her mind as I did on mine and for that reason, I later went and searched her out.


That afternoon, Sango went for a walk in a meadow she knew of that was not far away. I wondered if she had the same things on her mind as I did on mine and for that reason, I later went and searched her out.

It was a beautiful meadow. The grasses were tall and full of flowers, and held all the promise of innocence. I almost didn't see her at first, hidden as she was by the grasses, blending in with the green of her yukata. I could see that she was picking flowers and weaving them together into rings. She had braided her hair; it also had flowers in it. As I got closer, I could hear that she was humming something. It was a tune that blended in and out of the drone of bees, drifted through the whispering of the long flower stalks, played among the shifting leaves on the trees, and came back to rest upon her delicate smile. 'She's enjoying herself,' I thought, and that small idea made me stop moving. She was happy.

I would play the scene over and over in my head later, whenever I needed a distraction from life. Later, I would also come to see that, although this was just momentary bliss, she could some day be happy like this again. But at that moment, all I could sense was her smile, and my mind was blank.

I almost didn't want to interrupt her, didn't want to let her know that I was there, that I had been watching her when she thought she was alone. I had come up behind her, softly, hardly daring to move. Usually she would have heard me approach, but she was so lost in flower petals; she noticed nothing. Still I knew that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't walk away from her.

"Did your mother teach you that song?" I never could understand why I asked her that question. But once the air was let out of my mouth, carrying those words that I knew would hurt her, I couldn't draw it back in.

She gave a little cry and jumped, as she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. She turned to me, and the soft summer sun hit her face and made her eyes shine with a gentle, trusting light.

"Miroku," she said, and a little sigh escaped her lips. "I didn't hear you..."

"I didn't mean to frighten you," I started to reply. I meant to say more after that, but I couldn't force the words from my mouth. It was the kind of day, I realized then, that at first makes you think it is hazy out, but you then realize that it is simply the sun catching and lighting all the different things drifting in the air. In the late afternoon of the meadow, it seemed that tiny, bright fairies were dancing in the warm glow cast by the expression on her face.

She patted the ground next to her. "Sit," she said so softly that I almost didn't hear her. I most willingly obliged. I was surprised she was not wary of me, as she usually was, but then thought that, by looking at the troubled expression smeared across my face, she could tell that there was something more important on my mind. We sat in silence; Sango continued weaving, making the ring a crown as thick as my wrist. Since there was no answer to my first question, I hoped she had not heard it in her fright. I had just finished conjuring this thought in my mind when she spoke, shattering it into pieces.

"No."

"What?" I asked, for the moment confused.

"The song," she said, again in that soft voice, "was not taught to me by my mother. I-"

"I didn't mean to ask," I said, quickly cutting her off.

"No, it's alright." She saw the concern in my expression. "It doesn't bother me. I was at a village once, killing off some small demons. The head family asked me to join them for dinner. It was the grandmother who was singing the song. I only heard it once, but it stuck with me. I don't know why. My mother never taught me songs, and I don't remember the ones she sang when I was young."

"I'm sorry, Sango," I said, and this time it was my voice that was soft. I was sorry, so sorry, for all the pain and suffering the world had caused her. But mostly, I was sorry for having intruded on her happiness in the quiet little meadow. There was silence again for a time. Sango began to hum again, but then interrupted herself with a question for me.

"What is it you want to tell me, Miroku?"

I looked to my left, and watched a butterfly flit among the leaves of a wild rose bush. Another one joined it, and together they danced away on the soft wind. I looked down into my lap, at my hands. I spread the fingers wide, pulling the skin taut over my palms. One palm I could not see. I breathed in, ready to talk, but instead of words coming forth over my teeth, only air rushed out. I tried again, this time succeeding. "Do you ever feel like-" I breathed in deeply again, "like you are not where you are supposed to be? Like this life was not meant for you? Do you ever wonder? Do you ever meet another person, and say to yourself, 'I wish their life was mine?'"

"All the time, Miroku." She flopped onto her back and lay staring at the clouds. "We all do, sometimes. Maybe even for a long time. I didn't want all this to happen. I didn't want my days to be like this. I wanted to be normal. Have a family, be a good tai-ja all my life. I wanted my little brother to grow up. I wanted a lot of things."

"Do you still wish for them?" I asked. I wasn't sure what I was driving at. I wasn't even sure about what was really on my mind. It was just a feeling, a feeling that something was out of place, something was not right.

"Sometimes I do, yes. But then I think that a normal life, although it would be erased of misery, would not be as full as my life is now. I would never have met Kagome, or Inuyasha, or Shippo. I would never have met you." She smiled to herself. "I had friends back then, but not like this. You guys are..." Her voice drifted off, and she closed her eyes.

"You are my family," I said, and took hold of her hand. She opened her eyes, and looked straight into mine. She nodded.

"Yes." There was silence then. No, it was calm that was descending over us, not silence. Silence is empty, void. But this noiseless noise was full of passion. It was a passion that burned through every living thing in that meadow, including Sango and me. "What I would really like, perhaps, is to change things. Like, well, like my family's death. But most things, like meeting you, I wouldn't trade for anything. When I feel lost, like I think you do now, I take comfort in the small things."

"What are those things?" I asked. The warm air drifted over us like a blanket sent from the horizon. I had never felt so comfortable or safe with another human being in my life. I wondered what Sango was thinking. She usually didn't open up this much. Maybe she had been troubled lately, too. Maybe it was the rarity of peace that brought back so many memories of a distant time.

She smiled at me again. "Well, that song I was humming, for one. It has always brought feelings of home. The way Kagome trusts me with all her secrets. The way Inuyasha treats Shippo kindly when he thinks no one's looking. The way _you _look at me when you think I'm not looking."

All I could do was stare. This was the side of Sango I loved best, the one she did not show so often.

"Why do you bring this up?" She asked, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

"Something just feels strange in the back of my head," I replied. It was the want, I think, for a better life, a different one. But I did not tell Sango this. I had realized, when she spoke of the group as her family, that I could not picture any better life without her. She was here with me now, in this life, and for that I was grateful. I was grateful to her, and Inuyasha, and Kagome, and Shippo. I realized then that I needed them, and when this was over, I could not imagine any better life without my friends beside me. Instead, I replied to her, "Talking to you has helped, I think. You are perfect to talk to." I smiled down at her. She was not only perfect to talk to, but was also perfect, to me, in every other way imaginable.

She sat up and handed me her wreath of flowers. There was no pattern to it, no particular color scheme. Blues and pinks and purples and yellows and whites mixed together in a twisting, turning, never-ending dance. But it was a dance that spoke of a moment of pure happiness and of the beautiful song that the flowers danced to, the song that Sango had woven into the nature of the meadow, touching all it's wild corners. I placed the wreath on her head, the flowers blending sweetly with her sable hair.

"I will always be here to listen to you," she said, carefully but confidently.

I let the silence answer; there was no thought in my head as I watched her start on another ring. It was a fast descending silence; a heavy, deep silence that spoke of the age of the trees surrounding the meadow. Yet I knew it could be broken, easily in fact, by the slightest whisper. And so it was comfortable, a quiet more than a silence, a silence I put my trust into. And the silence held true.

A/N: Wow. Where did that come from? Not a bad piece of work, in my point of view. Yes, the characters were very OOC, but I wrote it for me, not for them. Sorry Sango and Miroku! I can't ask you to like this piece; it was written truly from the heart, and should not be fanfiction. But it is. Maybe later I'll change it, but I can't think of any other way for it to be. I know one thing: it was from watching the movie 'A River Runs Through It' that I got my inspiration. Go watch it if you haven't seen it, I beseech you. It is very good. Another thing that I can tell you is that I myself am feeling a little odd in the back of my head, as if I've just finished a book that had no ending. How strange. Maybe I had better stop writing for now. Oh! One more thing. I've never made a daisy chain or a wreath of flowers, whatever you want to call it, so I don't really know if it can become as thick as you wrist. I would really appreciate any comments you have on this. Thank you.

-Queen of Koorime


End file.
